Red as the Sky
by ReaperRain
Summary: Two years later and Vincent still doesn't understand why Cid married Shera. As it turns out, neither does Cid. Valenwind, CidVincent. Sort-of-but-not-really CidShera.
1. Chapter 1

ReaperRain here, with my first ever Valenwind story! I've been stalking the fandom for a while, and half-written a handful of plotbunnies, but this is the first one I've actually managed to turn into a proper fic. So, um, enjoy!

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own.

Oh, and before I forget...this takes place after the movie, but I'm discounting DoC.

* * *

**Chapter one, otherwise named: 'Wheeeee, it's starting!'**

There wasn't a church in Rocket Town, and so the ceremony took place in Midgar. Hymn music, holy vows, balloons and bouquets - the works. Shera looked beautiful in her white gown, although Cid didn't quite suit his formal tuxedo, but no matter. The AVALANCHE group, Cid's airship crew, and a number of other people all filled the pews, watching as the couple repeated after the priest.

Vincent Valentine, on the other hand, stayed at the very back of the building, hidden by the shadows. By all accounts, he should have been sat with Cloud and the others, but he just couldn't find the heart to do it. Not to mention he'd look horribly out of place in his red cloak and clawed gauntlet - but he hadn't worn a suit in over 30 years, and he didn't intend to do so now.

So he stayed out of sight in his characteristic style, looking on as Cid and Shera exchanged promises of eternity. A part of him urged him to be happy for his friend, and yet he wasn't. Neither was he saddened or angry, just...numb. Distanced, as though he were not watching real life, but some sort of dream.

He was bothered, because he _wasn't_ bothered, when clearly there should have been some sort of emotion present. Perhaps the blame lay within his past, and the day Lucrecia chose Hojo over him. It would certainly explain why he felt so detached, seeing two people promise the love he had never received, nor had the chance to give.

"You may kiss the bride."

There was applause when the pair kissed. And yet for Vincent, he still felt nothing. Truthfully, he was still half-expecting to wake up.

The ceremony ended; Shera was instantly surrounded by people offering their congratulations, whereas Cid eased out of the crowd and made his way to the back of the church.

"Vin?" He called out, unsure, "Hey Vince, you there?"

Vincent's response was to sink further back into the shadows. He didn't want to be seen, and he didn't quite know why. Still, no emotion, just a desire to stay hidden.

"Vincent?" Cid tried again, and scratched the back of his head in confusion, "I coulda sworn...I thought I saw..."

"Hey Cid!" Someone called out from the crowd, "What're you doing all the way back there!"

"Just lookin' for my cigarettes!" Cid called back, and cast another furtive glance around the shadows, features tightened into a displeased scowl.

"Didn't even come to my #!£&in' wedding..." Vincent heard before the man turned around, walking back up to the crowd. He could've easily stepped into view, made himself known, wiped the frown off of Cid's face...

"Sorry Chief," Vincent whispered, and stuck to the shadows as he headed towards the quiet side-exit.

* * *

Two years later, and Vincent found himself on the outskirts of Rocket Town.

Although it could hardly be called that anymore, since the Rocket was long gone. It remained as quiet as peaceful as ever, the houses unchanged, even the weather the same. He had to wonder if it ever rained here, since every day seemed like summer.

He also had to wonder if anyone would remember him. Two years was a long time after all; he'd journeyed the world, visited every place, but not here. He'd frequently dropped by to see the other AVALANCHE members, but not Cid. Ever since that day in the church - that even now still seemed like a dream - he hadn't been able to face the man.

But now he was ready. Maybe. He was still apprehensive about seeing Cid again, about how the pilot would react. Welcoming arms or furious hostility? Really, it could go either way. But he couldn't put it off any longer - two years was too long to only dwell on thoughts of Cid, and not finally work up the nerve to visit.

Stood on the oh-so-familiar doorstep, Vincent knocked three times - hard, and with his left hand, because he knew from experience that Cid wouldn't hear him otherwise. He was also fairly certain that Cid would be working on the Tiny Bronco or some other project in his back garden.

No response. He tried again.

"Sheeera! Get the door!" He heard. So Cid _was_ in the back garden.

But no-one answered. He knocked again.

"SHEEEEERA!" Nothing. Vincent heard an irritable sigh before "I gotta do everythin' around here..." and footsteps stomped towards the front door. He waited patiently for Cid to arrive.

"Alright, what the hell do you-" Cid managed to say before his jaw dropped open in shock, and the ever-present cigarette fell to the floor; "Vincent...?"


	2. Chapter 2

It's Saturday! And because it's Saturday, that means the story gets updated, hooray! Granted, I haven't received bucketloads of attention so far, but in my experience you generally _don't_ until a couple of chapters in. Anyway, happy reading!

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own.

* * *

**Chapter two, otherwise named: '#!£&, Cid is fun to write'.**

There he was. Cid, who was covered in oil stains. Cid, who was wearing his flight goggles with a pack of cigarettes tucked into the strap. Cid, who was exactly as Vincent remembered him.

Cid, who looked ready to hug him and strangle him at the same time.

"What..." Cid uttered, staring at Vincent much like one would at a ghost, "Vin...where...what..._Vin?_"

"That would be correct," The gunner tilted his head ever-so-slightly to the side, the quirk of his lips obscured by the high collar of his red cloak, "Long time no see, Chief."

He was met by stunned silence.

And more silence.

And then...

"YOU #!£&ER!" Cid shouted so loud that several birds scattered from the nearby trees, "Where the #!£& have you been for the last two years?!"

Vincent winced slightly at the volume, but he supposed he deserved it after abandoning the man, "My apologies, Cid. I've been travelling the world-"

"Don't give me that #!£&in' sorry excuse," The pilot interrupted, and prodded Vincent sharply in the chest for effect, "Cloud an' the others told me about you visitin' them. You got time to drop by all the other members of AVALANCHE but you 'aint got time to see me?"

"Cid, I-"

"Two _years_, Vin! That may not seem like much to you and your non-existent biological clock, but for _some_ of us it's quite a long time," Cid continued as though he hadn't heard, "Would it have been so much hassle for you to just stop by? Or 'aint my company good enough for you anymore?"

"Cid, it's not like that-"

"An' another thing," Cid ranted on, and Vincent realised that he wouldn't be able to get a word in edgeways until the pilot had completely vented his frustrations, "Why the hell can't you use a goddamn phone? #!£& Vin, you 'aint that old, it can't be that difficult-"

"Cid," Vincent said sternly, and stuck a cigarette in the man's mouth.

"...?" Well, that managed to shut him up at least. Cid removed the cigarette, looking at it in confusion, "What the hell...?"

"Your favourite kind," Vincent declared, amused by his friend's bewilderment, "I picked some up on the way here."

"...Vin, sometimes I don't understand you at all."

"Very few people do, Chief," The gunner assured him, "May I come in?"

"...Sure, why the hell not," Cid stepped aside, allowing Vincent to enter.

The house seemed exactly as he remembered it, right down to the mugs on the shelf and the cigarette butts in the ashtray. Cid took a seat at the table, lighting his newly-acquired cigarette before leaning back in contemplative silence.

"...Cid?" Vincent asked unsurely. It wasn't like Cid to be so quiet.

"Shaddup. I'm still tryin' to decide whether I want to punch you or not."

Vincent sighed and took the chair opposite his friend, "I suppose I would deserve that."

"Two years..." Cid said again, and took a long drag of the cigarette, exhaling smoke as he talked, "Damnit Vampy, you had me up half the nights wonderin' what the hell I did wrong. I kept hearin' about you visitin' that lot in Midgar, Nanaki in Cosmo Canyon, even Yuffie...I was hopin' you'd drop by Rocket Town next, but you never did."

"I'm here now," Vincent pointed out.

"Why'd it take so long, though?" Vincent was surprised at how genuinely hurt Cid looked, "Did I do somethin' to piss you off? You know what I'm like sometimes, I can't keep my mouth shut-"

"Chief, it was nothing like that."

"Well what the hell was it, then?"

"It's-" He paused, considering how to explain his actions rationally, and found that he couldn't, "It's complicated."

"Cid!" There came the sound of the door opening, and both men looked up to see Shera enter the room, bags in hand, "I just went out to get some groceries- oh!" The bags were abruptly dropped, contents spilling onto the floor. Shera didn't seem to notice, however, too preoccupied with the black-haired male sat at the table, "Mr Valentine, is that you?"

Vincent was about to reply when Cid did it for him: "Of course it's Vince, woman. How many people d'ya know who look like that?"

"Yes, of course, it's just-" She looked flustered and shocked and disbelieving all at the same time, "It's been..."

"Two years," Vincent inclined his head formally, just as he had done when the two had first met, "Hello, Miss Shera."

"Vincent came by just before you arrived," Cid added, and then frowned at the sight of the shopping bags, "Shera, there's milk all over the floor."

"Sorry, sorry!" Shera began hastily picking up the fallen fruit and vegetables in an attempt to salvage them, "I'll get a mop...but Mr Valentine, why did you decide to come by now? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Not at all," Vincent shook his head, and leaned sideways to pick up a peach that had rolled by his chair, "You see, I have a favour to ask...and of course I'll understand if you refuse, seeing as it's been so long-"

"Get on with it," Cid waved an impatient hand, sending cigarette smoke everywhere.

"Well, I've been travelling around, staying in hotels and such. Except I'm all out of Gil, so..." Vincent's eyes flickered up to meet Cid's, red against blue, "Could I stay here?"


	3. Chapter 3

Eheh...I'm aware that this hasn't been updated in a while, but my life life seems to have caught up with me. Updates will be a lot less structured from now on, what with my hazardous schedule, so...yeah. I'll update it when I can.

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own.

* * *

**Chapter three, otherwise named: 'Vincent just isn't into the laydeez'.**

Southern hospitality was a wondrous thing, Vincent soon found out. Truthfully, he hadn't expected Cid and Shera to say yes, and so eagerly at that. He'd only intended to stay for a few days, but it soon became a week, then two weeks, and so on. Eventually he had to insist on helping around the house, just so he wouldn't feel as though he were using the place as a free hotel.

Cid and Shera's life in Rocket Town seemed peaceful - save Cid's temper, of course, but that rarely went further than heated words and the pilot storming out to smoke an entire pack of cigarettes in five minutes. Really, it was wonder the man hadn't already contracted lung cancer.

One thing Vincent noticed about Cid, though...he always seemed so _restless_. Of course, Cid was hardly the laid-back type, but now it was more prominent than ever - every minute of every day was filled with activity, taking things apart and putting them back together again. Even that which didn't need fixing, like tuning up the Tiny Bronco when it was already in perfect shape.

"Miss Shera," Vincent asked the woman as he helped her wash the dishes one day, "Is Cid always this busy, or is it just since I arrived...?"

"Hm? No, he's always like that," Shera told him cheerfully, "The Captain likes to keep a full schedule, I suppose. He used to spend most of his free time in the Rocket, but since it was launched...well, I guess he doesn't have much to do."

"I see," Vincent nodded, and said no more.

* * *

"You could always open a mechanics shop."

"Eh?" Cid looked up from the engine of the Tiny Bronco, face smudged with oil, "You say somethin', Vin?"

"I said you could open a mechanics shop," Vincent repeated, "You spend all your spare time fixing things, mighty as well do it for a living."

"What for? I don't need any money."

"It'd be something to do, though, to keep you from getting bored."

"I guess. Pass me that wrench across, would ya?" Vincent did so, and managed to get his hand covered in oil when he brushed against Cid's fingers. He wiped it absentmindedly on his trousers as he watched Cid lean forwards into the engine.

"It'd be a wasted effort out here, though. Wouldn't get any customers," Cid continued, emerging even more blackened by oil, "I'd have to go to Midgar an' I #!£&in' hate it there. Can't even see the sky past all the pollution."

"What about your airship? Delivery or transportation, something like that."

"My crew's already using my airship for that. I could join 'em, but then I'd be leavin' Shera behind, an' she couldn't come with 'cause she hates travellin'," The pilot answered, and grabbed a nearby rag to wipe his hands with, "Price of marriage, y'see. Can't go flyin' no more."

"Huh..." Vincent leaned back against the wall of the house, arms folded, "And yet you love the sky...I never thought you'd give it up for marriage."

Cid shrugged; "Can't stay a bachelor forever."

Vincent observed as Cid finished wiping his hands, closing the Tiny Bronco's engine and inspecting the flawless surface of the metal. Apparently it wasn't flawless enough, however, since he grabbed another cloth and began to polish the already-shiny bodywork. Vincent fell on Cid's hand in particular, and the golden band secured around his ring finger. Married...even now, after all this time, it still felt as though it wasn't real, like the wedding had all been a dream. Perhaps it was just a matter of getting used to it.

"What about you, Vin?" Cid's voice cut through Vincent's thoughts, causing him to look up into sky-blue eyes, "Would you ever do it? Settle down with a good woman?"

"I doubt it," The thought required almost no contemplation, "Not after Lucrecia..."

"Still hung up on her, huh?" Cid laughed softly. Anyone else would have earned a death-glare from Vincent for that, but he knew that Cid meant no offense. The man could be tactless at the best of times, but Vincent didn't mind that so much.

"Is she your first and last, then?" Cid asked again, "You'd never get together with anyone ever again?"

"I suppose it's possible," Vincent answered thoughtfully, "If it was the right person...why?"

"No reason," A grin came to the other man's face, "Although maybe I'm curious as to who you'd end up with. What's your type?"

"Cid, if you try and set me up on a date, I'll-"

"Shoot me in the foot, I know," Cid waved a hand carelessly, "I wouldn't anyway. I can imagine Tifa tryin' to, though...she's into that sort of thing."

"I'll shoot _her_ in the foot too."

"I think that's why she hasn't tried yet," Cid took a seat on his workbench, eyes squinted in concentration, "Who _would_ be your type, though...? Maybe someone who's quiet and private, like you?"

"That isn't necessarily true," Vincent pointed out, "For all you know, I might want my polar opposite."

"Loud, hyperactive and annoying?" Cid quirked an eyebrow, "You'd better not be thinkin' of datin' that brat, Vin."

"Yuffie?" Vincent would have paled, but he was already pale, and so no distress was apparent, "...She's not my type."

"I suppose there's already Tifa. Or that Turk girl, Elena. Or Scarlet, if evil laughs are your thing."

"...Maybe I'll just stay single."


	4. Chapter 4

It's okay, I'm still alive! But now that summer is over and I have a busy schedule, the story has taken second priority. Don't worry though; it won't be abandoned.

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own.

* * *

**Chapter four, otherwise named: 'It's about time we had some darn fun in this story!'**

He didn't recall any recent tornados, but it certainly looked as though the kitchen had been _hit_ by one.

Making his way through the chaos, he narrowly avoided slipping on a slab of butter that had landed on the floor, although he _did_ manage to step on what looked like pistachio nuts and bits of broken chocolate. An egg yolk slowly ran down the wall; next to it were the curtains, which appeared to have been dusted in sugar. And there was flour _everywhere..._ including all over Cid.

"Chief?" Vincent asked, trying to hide his smile, because Cid clearly wasn't in a good mood, "Care to explain what happened here?"

"Shera kept naggin' about how I should try doin' more than just makin' tea in the kitchen," Cid snapped - and, as Vincent had predicted, he was _very_ pissed off, "So I thought I'd make brownies, just to prove I can cook."

"...I think you may have failed that particular mission, Chief."

"Shaddup!" Cid brandished his wooden spoon, and in doing so sent a splatter of melted chocolate against the wall, "My brownies will turn out perfect, just you wait and see. They should've had long enough to cook by now..."

He opened the oven door, which sent a cloud of smoke throughout the entire kitchen; wisely, Vincent decided to open the window. Once the residual fog had cleared, Cid set the tray down on the table...apparently none-too-thrilled that his brownies were _black_, not brown.

"I'm waiting, Cid, but I'm not seeing," Vincent murmured with barely-concealed amusemant.

"You be quiet," Cid growled, before scratching the back of his head, and unknowingly covering his hair in chocolate, "I don't get it...where did I go wrong?"

"Well..." Vincent saw the cookbook resting on the table - judging from how spotless it was, it had only been glanced at, "Why don't you tell me what you did?"

"I dunno...I just gathered everythin' into the bowl. One slab of butter..."

"Did you soften it first?"

"Soften?" Cid blinked, "Nah, I just put it in there. Then I added the chocolate, then I remembered I had to _melt_ the chocolate, so I took it back out again; then I put in the flour, and a packet of sugar-"

"Wait, a _packet?_"

"Well yeah. The more the better," Cid stated, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet, "So then I added the white chocolate and the pinocchio nuts or whatever they're call- oh wait, no I didn't. Must've forgotten 'em," He shrugged, "Eh, whatever. And after all that, I put in some chilli powder."

"What?" Vincent glanced at the cookbook; no, chilli powder was most definitely not on the ingredients list, "Why on earth would you add _chilli powder...?_"

"For that extra kick, of course!" Cid boasted, chest swelling out with pride, "It's a secret Highwind recipe!"

"Chief, one does not normally put chilli powder in sweet dishes. It doesn't really go."

"What're you talkin' about? My Ma used to put it in everythin', and I 'aint suffered any long-term damage!"

"I wonder," Vincent muttered.

"But even with the chilli powder, it still ended up like this," Cid prodded the burnt mess with a spoon, only to find that it wouldn't come back out, "I don't get it; why didn't it turn out perfectly?"

Vincent contemplated writing a list, but decided that it would take too long, "...Let's just start from scratch, Cid. I'll show you how to do it properly."

"Didn't peg you as the brownie-makin' type, Vin."

"Didn't peg you as the frilly apron-wearing type, Chief," Vincent shot back, looking at Cid's - although more likely Shera's - decorative apron. Cid's response was to go bright red and splutter obscenities whilst Vincent calmly removed his cloak.

"We should probably get a new bowl-" Vincent began, but paused when he saw Cid's stupefied expression, "Cid, is something wrong?"

"No, it's just..." Cid's gaze swept up and down the other man, "It's weird seein' you without all that #!£&in' red cape in the way."

Vincent was tempted to roll his eyes, but instead gave a sigh of "Honestly..." and gathered everything they would need.

"Alright, first we'll need to grease the tray."

Cid blinked; "Grease the what now?"

"I'm guessing you didn't do that the first time," Vincent turned the baking tray upside-down; sure enough, the burnt leftovers clung stubbornly to the metal, "Never mind...here, cover this new tray in butter."

And so for the next 20 minutes, Vincent heated the chocolate and butter whilst Cid lit his cigarette on the oven flame. Then Vincent stirred the flour and caster sugar whilst Cid smoked out of the window. Then Vincent mixed the chocolate and flour plus a few whisked eggs whilst Cid futilely tried to scrape the last brownie attempt into the bin. And finally Vincent added the pistachio nuts and white chocolate into the mixture whilst also preventing Cid's attempts to spike it with chilli powder.

"Now it says to cook it for...for..." Cid squinted at the cookbook, somewhat worrying since he was holding it centimetres from his face, "50 minutes?"

"30 minutes," Vincent corrected him gently, "Maybe you should consider getting reading glasses, Chief."

"My eyesight is fine," Cid huffed, slipping the new and considerably improved brownie mix into the oven, "Now what do we do?"

"Now _you_ clean the kitchen, since I doubt Shera will be happy to see this mess."

"But...but...you won't help me?"

"I shall not. You were the one who caused this," Vincent replied sternly, only to receive a pleading gaze. Whilst Cid was anything but cute, he was pretty damn persuasive, and Vincent could already feel his resolve weakening.

"...Fine," He sighed at last, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "Really, Cid, the things I do for you..."

"You love me really," Cid was wearing that confident grin of his that meant he'd _won_, "So, er, where does Shera keep the cleanin' stuff?"

"You're insufferable, Highwind," Vincent told him blankly, and armed Cid with a mop and bucket, "Get to work on the floor, and just throw that old baking tray away. I don't think your chocolate-chilli mix is ever going to come off."

"You're just jealous 'cause _you_ didn't come up with the idea," Cid sniffed, but his expression quickly melted into a smile, "Hey...thanks, Vin."

Vincent permitted the barest of smiles, "You'd be lost without me, I know. Oh, and you still have chocolate in your hair."

"Huh?" Cid reached up to brush the residue away, but Vincent beat him to it, pulling chocolate free of the short blond strands.

"Got it. Be more careful next time, hm?" Vincent teased lightly, "Oh, and you still have to clean the walls."

"What..." Cid shook his head, expression bewildered, "How come I get covered in chocolate, whereas you don't have a speck on you? Your hair's #!£&in' longer than mine!"

"I didn't decide to wage a war against the kitchen, Chief," Was Vincent's reply.

Thirty minutes later, when the brownies were cooling and the kitchen had been restored to its previous state, Vincent and Cid were stood at the table with a bowl of leftover brownie mix between them.

"Shera would probably want a taste," Cid announced, clapping his hands together gleefully, "But she 'aint here, so it's all ours!"

"Cid...you're aware that there is raw egg in that mixture?"

"So what? I'll be fine," Cid shrugged, before the trademark cocksure grin emerged again, "Food poisonin' #!£&in' runs away when it sees Cid Highwind!"

"I'm sure," Vincent murmured softly, and figured that salmonella wouldn't be so bad if he had Cid to share it with. A single, slender white finger skimmed the edge of the bowl before travelling back to his lips; from the corner of his eye, he could see Cid staring at him with a mix of fascination and...hunger?

"Cid?" His voice seemed to snap the other man from his trance, "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," Cid answered, and dipped two fingers into the bowl, "Just don't want you eatin' all the mixture, that's all."

"Greedy," Vincent scolded lightly, but allowed Cid his share; between them, the bowl was soon empty.

Shera seemed honestly surprised to find brownies waiting for her, made by Cid no less - Vincent decided not to mention the fact that _he_ had done most of the actual cooking. It was reward enough to return to his room - he'd stopped thinking of it as the guest room by now - for the night with a smile on his face, something he couldn't remember doing for a long time.

Funny though, he could never quite forget the smell of brownie mix and nicotine.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five is here! Er, that's all I've got to say on that one.

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter five, otherwise named: 'Hey look, the slash is starting!'**

Whilst Cid was never one to sit still for very long, Vincent was able to, on occasion, drag him away from the house and all its mechanical distractions. The spot where the Rocket used to sit was now a haven of tall grass and trees, the perfect place to just relax and watch the world go by. The two favoured one tree in particular, where Vincent could lean against the trunk in the cool shade, and Cid could lay back and admire the drifting clouds.

Cid's love for the sky hadn't died down, Vincent realised. He still gazed up with the same fondness and longing, eyes the exact same shade of the heavens. He belonged up there, just as his namesake had suggested, and yet Cid had already stated that he had given up flying to remain with Shera.

The way Vincent saw it, Cid would probably have been happier if he _hadn't_ married her.

"Cid," He said one day, when Cid's unspoken desire for flight was too much for him to remain silent, "Why did you marry Shera?"

"Eh?" Cid tore his gaze from the sky to look at him, "Well why not? She already lived with me, an' I knew she'd be able to put up with my attitude. 'Aint a lot of women who can do that."

"Convenience, then?"

"You don't have to put it like that," The pilot frowned, "Makes it sound as though there was no emotion involved."

"And was there?"

"Of course there was. I married her 'cause I wanted to. Why, you got trouble believin' that?"

He could sense tempers rising, so he decided not to push it any further; "I suppose it's none of my business."

"What's that?" Cid sat up, the frown now a scowl, "If you've got somethin' to say, Vampy, say it."

"I just..." He decided to ignore the name-calling, even if the tone was a bit aggressive, "I didn't think you'd ever get married that's all."

"Why, 'cause I 'aint marriage material?"

"I never said that," Vincent chose his words cautiously - Cid clearly wasn't happy, and when that happened he had a tendency to pick fights, "I meant that marriage ties you down. I never saw you as someone who would allow that."

"Tied down? Christ, Vin, you make it sound as though I'm in chains."

"You are, aren't you?" The ex-Turk said quietly, "You said yourself that you can't fly around anymore because you'd be leaving Shera behind. That's being tied down, isn't it?"

Cid's expression darkened further, "What're you tryin' to say?"

"That you had a choice between Shera and the sky..." The gunner answered, voice soft, "...And you chose Shera. I know how much you love the sky, Cid. That's why I can't understand why you got married."

"Hmph," Cid looked away, "Maybe I just love Shera more."

"Do you?"

"What? Of course I #!£&in' do."

Vincent stared at him head-on, "Really, Cid? Even more than you love the sky?"

"Don't you give me that #!£&in' look," Cid shot back irritable, "You know #!£& all about my relationship with Shera. You didn't even turn up to the #!£&in' wedding."

"Yes I did, Chief."

"You did?" Cid blinked, anger momentarily forgotten, "I didn't see you."

"I was at the back of the church, in the shadows."

"Damnit, I _knew_ you were there! I coulda sworn I glimpsed you durin' the ceremony," The pilot frowned, "Wait a minute...I went back there lookin' for you, callin' out your name. Why didn't you answer?"

"I..." He had no clue what to say; two years later and he still wasn't sure what had really happened that day, "I don't know."

"Don't know? Whaddya mean 'don't know'?"

"..."

"You gonna tell me or what?"

"..."

Cid let out a sigh; "Vince, I know you're an enigma at the best of times, but could you _please_ explain to me what the hell's goin' on?"

"I'm not sure myself," Vincent admitted at last, "I remember watching the ceremony, but something didn't feel right; I felt like I _should've_ been happy, but I just felt...detached," He lowered his eyes, "That's nothing new to me, but I was confused because it _should've_ been a joyous occasion. That's why I didn't answer you, Cid, and that's why I left for two years."

Cid just stared at him; "So...you weren't happy to see me get married?"

"I wasn't _un_happy," Vincent pointed out quickly.

"But you weren't happy?"

"Well...not really, no," He was surprised when the pilot stood up abruptly, "Cid? Where are you going?"

"Away. I need to think," Cid answered shortly before he strode away. Vincent sat in confusion for a minute or two before he realised, with a sinking feeling, that he had probably upset his friend. Thus, he stood up to go after him, finding him stood beneath another tree. Cid was already frowning in deep thought when he arrived, and that frown only deepend when he saw the ex-Turk.

"Vin, when I said I needed to think, I meant on my own."

"I knew it," Vincent shook his head, more to himself than anyone else, "This is why I didn't see you for two years afterwards. I knew you'd react like this."

"What?" Cid looked up sharply, blue eyes wide, "You...knew...?"

"That you'd be mad," Vincent elaborated, "I don't know why I wasn't happy for you, Cid; my apologies if it's upset you. I don't want us to fall out."

"Oh," Was all the pilot said, as if in sudden realisation, before mumbling, "That's what you meant..."

"Hm?" Clearly those last words weren't intended to be heard, but Vincent's hearing was better than most, "What did you think I meant, Chief?"

"...Nothing. But I reckon I'm gonna need more time to think...I'm still contemplatin'."

"Contemplating what?"

When Cid stared at him long and hard, he had to wonder just what was going through the man's head; "No, never mind," Cid declared at last, "It doesn't matter anymore. Let's just go inside," With that, he began strolling back towards the house.

"Chief...?" Vincent murmured soundlessly. He was still confused; something told him that he and Cid had been thinking two different things entirely.

_Just what was he thinking of...?_


	6. Chapter 6

I keep forgetting to update this thing...here's chapter six!

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter six, otherwise named: 'We've got romance, we've got angst...we've got romangst!'**

To anyone else, it would seem as though everything was back to normal. Cid worked, Vincent helped, and the days passed by at the same leisurely pace as a summer breeze. The ex-Turk though, being as acutely observational as he was, could detect the slightest of changes in Cid's behaviour. The man had gone back to being endlessly busy with fixing things, and even Vincent was having a hard time dragging him out to Rocket Fields to relax. He also seemed to talk less; of course, Cid rarely talked as he worked due to his concentration on what he was doing, but that had always been an easy, comfortable silence. Now it just felt awkward and heavy with words unsaid.

Something was eating at Cid. Vincent was positive that it was to do with their discussion in Rocket Fields, but he still wasn't sure just what it was. He'd been finding any excuse to help Cid so he could shadow the pilot and figure it out, but so far he'd learned nothing.

"Wrench," Cid grunted as he worked on the Tiny Bronco's engine once again, holding a hand out in expectation. Vincent passed it over, somewhat saddened that Cid did not so much as glance at him, and watched as the man fixed up the plane like a master artisan. There was something _hypnotic_ about watching Cid work - almost like a machine himself, from the nimbleness of his fingers to the movements of his elbow, and the way the muscles shifted beneath skin and cloth.

"Screwdriver, second from the right," He was snapped out of his reverie by Cid's words, but wasted no time in handing the tool across. Their fingers brushed on the handle, and Cid glanced up at him then, but his eyes quickly flicked back to the engine.

Vincent pulled his hand back, fingertips still tingling, and wondered if Cid's touch had meant so much to him before.

He went back to watching Cid, watching the pilot's fingers skillfully turn the screwdriver. Had Cid felt that touch too? He'd glanced up, but not for long...maybe it was only Vincent...

His chest constricted painfully, and he abruptly looked away from Cid and towards Rocket Fields. Part of him wanted to move closer to Cid, but he wasn't sure why - maybe to seize the man and tell him to start giving more attention to other people than to his machines. But Cid had always prized his Tiny Bronco and his airship above all else...which is why he _still_ couldn't understand why Cid would give that up to marry Shera. The woman was kind enough, but she wasn't the sky, and Cid worshipped the sky.

Cid shouldn't have married Shera.

Vincent recalled the detached numbness he'd felt on Cid's wedding day, and realised that maybe he'd known that all along.

Maybe Cid had realised it too, and that was why he was being so quiet...or maybe he was just angry that his friend hadn't been happy for him on his wedding day. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, raking his fingers through his long, inky-black hair. So much confusion...

When he opened his eyes again, he found Cid had stopped working to stare at him. He had that same look of awe and hunger in his eyes, just as he'd had on the day they'd made brownies for Shera.

He blinked, and tilted his head sideways in confusion: "Cid?"

"That's it," Cid's voice was hoarse, and there was a certain finality with which he placed the screwdriver on the workbench, "I can't take it anymore."

"Take what Chie-"

And Cid was kissing him.

Cid was _kissing_ him.

His first instinct was to bring his hands up to push Cid away; but then Cid leaned in further, and he found his fingers curling around the man's shoulders instead. Cid's hands had been braced against the wall of the house, effectively trapping Vincent - but when he realised the gunner wasn't going to run away he relaxed, one hand reaching up to Vincent's face so that his knuckles just brushed the white jawline.

They had to break apart for air, and Vincent found himself breathless for the first time in - well, _ever_. He clung to the pilot as he uttered the only word he could think of: "Cid..."

"Cid! Vincent! Time for dinner!"

Both men froze at the sound of Shera's voice, and Cid tore himself away as though he had been burned. The two stared at each other, both unsure what to do.

"We should - we should probably go inside," Cid declared at last, his voice still shaky. Vincent couldn't do much more than nod, before he practically fled into the house without glancing back.

* * *

Dinner was a silent and awkward affair, with neither Cid nor Vincent able to look each other in the eye. Shera seemed to pick up on this, switching her gaze between the two with a look of puzzlement.

"You're both very quiet," She said at last, "Have you two had an argument?"

The pair glanced at each other then; Cid froze mid-mouthful, but didn't say anything. Realising that it was up to him, Vincent cleared his throat softly.

"No Miss Shera, we have not," He assured her, "It's simply been a long day, that's all. We're both quite tired."

"Alright then. You can head off to bed early if you want, I'll tidy the dishes away."

"My thanks," Vincent murmured, and excused himself from the table. Cid quickly followed, and caught up to the ex-Turk at the top of the stairs.

"Vin, wait up."

"You shouldn't have done that."

The blond pilot blinked; "Eh?"

"You shouldn't have done that," Vincent repeated firmly, "You can't just go around kissing, especially when Shera is so close at hand."

"I tried! I was tryin' not to kiss you the entire time I was fixin' the plane!" Vincent's eyes widened at that; was that why Cid had refused to look at him...? "You were just _there_, an' you looked so - so - look, I just couldn't help myself, alright?"

"That's no excuse, Cid," The gunner pointed out, eyes narrowed, "You can't do this, you're a _married man_-"

"You think I don't know?!" Cid's tone was fierce, but he kept his voice down to an angry whisper, careful not to alert Shera, "It's just...#!£&, Vin, every time I see you, I just..."

"Is that the effect I have on you?" Vincent asked softly, and Cid nodded, "Then maybe I should leave."

"What?! No!" Blues eyes widened in momentary panic, "I only just got you back after two #!£&in' years, you can't leave again!"

"Then what else am I supposed to do?" Vincent asked lowly, "You are married, Cid, to the woman downstairs. This can't happen again."

"It won't," Cid promised him, "I won't do it again, I swear. Just - just - don't leave again, okay? I don't think I could take another two years of not seein' you."

"...Fine," A part of him didn't actually _want_ to leave, but another part was telling him that staying was not the best of ideas. Unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on your view - the latter part lost the argument, "This never happened, and it never _will_ happen, understood?"

"Right," Cid said quietly, although his expression was forlorn, "Well then...g'night, Vince."

He watched the other man slink away somewhat dejectedly, that same tightened feeling in his chest as earlier. It hurt, to see Cid so downcast, even if it was for the best.

_I want it as much as you do, Cid,_ Vincent thought as the door to Cid and Shera's bedroom closed, and the corridor was left silent, _But a relationship like that...it'll only end in tears_.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Aaaaand here's chapter seven. I apologise profusely for the length (of lack thereof) of the chapter, but it's difficult to make the chapters any longer without pointlessly padding it out...

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter seven, otherwise named: 'Wow, who saw that coming?'**

The next few days were tense and awkward; Cid was working like a madman again, something Vincent had come to recognise as a sign of stress. Even Shera seemed to notice Cid's workaholic behaviour, but she chose not to say anything. In an attempt to fabricate normality, Vincent continued to help Cid with the Tiny Bronco and drag him out to Rocket Fields, even if those trips were anything but relaxing. He wanted to shake the man and tell him to snap out of it, but Vincent knew that Cid's behaviour was simply self-restraint.

Even so...he didn't like seeing Cid like this...

"Nice weather today," Vincent remarked as the two sat beneath the usual tree in the fields of tall grass. Of course, the weather was no different from usual - pleasantly warm - but he needed something to fill the uncomfortable silence. There was enough irony in that, since it was normally Cid who initiated conversation, but the pilot was being stubbornly quiet.

All he got in reply was a: "Yep."

"The sky looks nice."

"Yep."

Vincent sighed, eyes drifting shut, "...Maybe I should just go."

"No!" Well, at least he had provoked a reaction; he opened his eye to see Cid sat upright, shoulders tense and brow furrowed, "You said you'd stay so long as I didn't do anythin'!"

"By not doing anything, Chief, you've become completely unemotional. It isn't you, and I don't like it," Vincent replied sternly, "It'd be better for everyone if I just left you and Shera in peace," He moved to get up and walk away, but Cid grasped his arm, holding on with vice-like grip.

"I don't want you to leave," The pilot breathed, "Please."

Vincent suddenly became aware of how _close_ the other was; Cid seemed to notice it too, but he didn't pull away. He stared at Vincent as though mesmerised, moving closer, and closer...

...And pulled back at the last minute, just before their lips could reach.

"Chief..." Vincent muttered, exasperated.

"I know, I know," Cid answered, letting go of the gunman's arm, "We can't, right? You don't like me in that way."

Vincent quirked an eyebrow; "I never said that."

"What? But you told me-"

"That we couldn't kiss again - for Shera's sake, Cid. She's happily married to you, she loves you."

Cid's gaze dropped to the ground, face set in a grimace, "But...I don't love her."

"You seemed sure of the opposite a few days ago."

"That's 'cause I thought that maybe I did. But it 'aint the same as..." The rest of the sentence hung in the air, but remained unspoken. A heavy, guilty silence followed.

"If you do not love her, Cid..." Vincent uttered quietly at last, "Then why did you marry her?"

"#!£&, I don't know," He ran a hand through short blond hair, "I figured that was what I supposed to do. Get married, settle down...probably won't have kids, I never liked 'em...but that's what a guy my age does, right?"

"Falling for your _male_ best friend is not part of that ideal, Chief."

"Well thanks for #!£&in' remindin' me," Cid growled, "I didn't exactly plan on this, y'know."

"But it _has_ happened," Vincent pointed out, "So what are we going to do about it?"

Cid was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was apprehensive, "We could still give it a go...Shera wouldn't have to know about it..."

"Cid, you _know_ that isn't a good idea."

"Lemme guess...it's 'cause you're straight, right?"

"Oh? What makes you think that?"

"Well you liked that Lucrecia woman, didn't you?"

"Indeed," Vincent regarded Cid through half-lidded eyes, "I like you too Chief. And surely the fact that you're _married_ to a woman is proof that things aren't always what they seem."

Cid seemed to perk up at the 'I like you too' bit, "So you'd be interested?" He queried, expression hopeful.

"I still don't think it's a good idea Chief. If Shera found out-"

"She won't. Not if we're careful," Vincent found himself looking into deadly-serious azure eyes, "Vin, I...I want this. More than anythin' else."

He couldn't bring himself to say no.

"...Alright. But we have to be careful. I don't want to hurt Shera."

"Careful. Got it," Cid repeated eagerly, looking much like a bouncy, excited child. He hesitated briefly, then leaned forwards and placed a soft, unsure kiss on Vincent's lips.

"...?" Vincent shook his head, smiling, and returned the gesture. A thrill ran through him when Cid deepened the kiss, and he felt those artisan fingers toying with his hair. There was guilt too, since he knew he shouldn't be doing this - and enjoying it so much, no less. But it was lost in the feel of the summer breeze and deft touches, the scent of flowers and cigarettes, and the taste of nicotine.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

I must not forget about this story...I must not forget about this story...I must not forget about this story...

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter eight, otherwise named: 'One man's happiness is another man's despair'.**

The guilt still lingered, a reminder in the back of his mind that this really, _really_ wasn't a good idea. He agreed completely, and yet he couldn't seem to help himself; the thrill that ran through him when he and Cid did so much as brush hands was electric. The pilot seemed to share this view, since he was always so _happy_. The way he whistled as he worked, the smile on his face, the extra spring in his step...

The only problem with this, however, was that Shera noticed.

"You're certainly cheerful lately, Cid," She commented one day, and Vincent felt his insides go cold. Cid, on the other hand, just laughed.

"'Aint nothin' wrong with bein' happy now, is there?" He responded good-naturedly, "Hey, I'm goin' outside for a bit. Want to join me, Vin?"

Vincent managed a stoic nod before he headed outside. As soon as they were well out of earshot, however, he turned to Cid with narrowed eyes: "I wish you'd stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Acting so...casual. You do realise that Shera could find out about us?"

"Why would she find out?" Cid pulled a cigarette from the packet tucked into his flight goggles, lighting it idly, "All I did was ask you to come outside with me."

"You're disturbingly comfortable with what we're doing," Vincent muttered lowly, "Don't you feel guilty at all?"

"Well...a little. But what Shera doesn't know won't hurt her, right? An' she won't find out about us."

"She's already noticed the change in your behaviour. You're walking everywhere with a smile on your face, Chief."

"I can't help it, I'm happy," Cid grew quiet then, "I haven't felt this happy in two years...since you left."

He felt that addictive thrill run through him again at the words, "Not even at your own wedding, Chief...?"

"Happy?" Cid let out a stream of nicotine smoke, expression thoughtful, "I dunno...more numb than anythin' else. That an' nervous as #!£&," He laughed, "But it felt more like a dream, y'know? All surreal an' #!£&."

_The same as me,_ Vincent thought, _So maybe Cid realised that something wasn't right, but he went ahead anyway..._

He had to wonder what would have happened if he had interfered during the ceremony, objected to the wedding...would Cid have come to his senses? Or maybe if he'd interfered from the very start, before Cid could even consider marrying Shera...

_I wonder...what if I had taken Shera's place?_

That certainly would have changed things. Cid wouldn't be living in Rocket Town, for a start - he'd be on his airship, travelling the skies just as he was meant to. Perhaps their existance would not be as carefree as the endless summer days over here, but Cid would undoubtedly be happier. More importantly, he'd be where he truly belonged.

_If it were me instead of her, Cid...you'd still have your wings_.

"You're awful quiet, Vin," Cid remarked suddenly, "Somethin' on your mind?"

"No...nothing," They approached their usual tree, and Vincent took a seat. There was no point in dwelling in the past, he supposed. Things had turned out like this, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"So long as you're not #!£&in' angstin' on me, that's all."

"I was not angsting...and angst isn't a verb."

"It is now!" Cid declared proudly, "Courtesy of Vincent Valentine: hobbies include readin' tragic poetry, lookin' dark an' mysterious, angstin'."

"Hush," Vincent berated, but he was smiling.

"Ah-hah, it brought a smile to your face though, didn't it?" Cid pointed out, and stubbed out the remains of his cigarette on the tree trunk, "Hey...I know what else'll make you smile."

"What's that-" Vincent found his lips caught in a kiss, and the taste of freshly-smoked cigarette. He frowned when they were done; "Cid Highwind. Don't tell me you asked me to come outside just so you could kiss me," The grin on the pilot's face told him that this was indeed the case, "To think that you mentioned it so casually in front of Shera..."

"Ah, she doesn't suspect a thing. Am I gonna get a kiss back or what?"

"Insufferable man," Vincent muttered, but kissed him anyway. Given how eager Cid was, it wasn't long before Vincent found himself on his back, the pilot above him. One hand was braced against the ground whilst the other ghosted down Vincent's cheek, his jaw, his neck...

"Chief," Vincent managed to gasp out between kisses, "We shouldn't - Shera could see-"

"Not past all the tall grass, she won't," Cid growled in reply, pressing his lips against Vincent's almost ferociously, "Christ, Vin...you've no idea how long I've been waitin' to do this..."

"How..." The gunner inhaled sharply when Cid moved onto his neck, "Long...Chief...?"

"Feels like #!£&in' forever..." He could feel Cid's throat shift as talked, feel the wild pulse beneath the skin, "#!£&, Vin, you're so #!£&in' beautiful, I could just-"

"Wait," Vincent suddenly hissed.

"Wait?" Cid paused as well, confused, "That wasn't quite what I had in mind-"

"I meant stop kissing me, there's..." Vincent fell quiet, straining his ears to pick up any sound, "Footsteps. I can hear footsteps."

"#!£&," Cid pulled himself off of Vincent at once, "Shera?"

"Make like you're asleep," Vincent whispered urgently, and rolled over onto his side, hoping that his long hair would conceal any heated flush on his face. He glimpsed Cid feigning slumber, struggling to even out his breathing.

"Mister Valentine? Captain?" Came Shera's soft voice not a minute later, "Are they asleep...?"

It seemed to be working, so Vincent kept his eyes closed until he felt hands on his shoulder, shaking him 'awake'. He let himself stir slightly, blinking sleepily for effect as opened his eyes.

"Mr Valentine...are you awake? Oh good," Shera smiled at him - from the looks of things, she was none the wiser about what had just happened, "I came to tell you that it's about to rain; better for you to come inside before it starts. Can you help me with Cid? He's almost impossible to wake up once he's fallen asleep..."

He forced a smile; his heart was still beating rapidly in his chest, like a caged bird, "Of course, Miss Shera. You head back inside, I'll wake him up."

Shera thanked him and left; the moment she was gone, Cid's eyes fluttered open.

"I thought you said we were going to be careful, Chief," Vincent uttered lowly, accusingly.

"Sorry, I didn't hear her comin'," Cid offered him an apologetic grin, "Guess I got carried away back there."

"Just don't let it happen again," Vincent warned. A part of him was downright furious with Cid at being so careless; more than anything else, though, he was unsettled by how close they'd already come to being caught.

* * *

By the time evening came, Vincent's nerves still hadn't improved. Worse still, it was now pouring it down outside, so he couldn't even leave the house to calm himself. It was made worse by Shera, who pottered about the house in blissful ignorance - she didn't know, as he kept reminding himself, but she had come dangerously close to discovering them.

He considered retiring to his room, but wondered if that might make Shera suspicious - if she wasn't already. Then again, maybe she could see that he wanted to return to his room but wasn't doing so, and _that_ was making her suspicious...he was so busy contemplating the less-suspicious thing to do that forgot his surroundings, and was promptly startled from his thoughts everytime Shera closed a cupboard or placed an item on the table.

"You're awfully jumpy today," Shera remarked after the fifth time, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," He answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. Shera seemed oblivious and went back to her cleaning, whilst Vincent inwardly cursed his poorly-hidden nerves. Given how Shera seemed to pick up on even the slightest change in his behaviour, he was certain she'd soon find out about him and Cid.

_This is already turning out to be a bad idea...but I can't bring myself to quit now,_ Vincent glanced out of the window, his breath misting against the cool glass. Watching the rain trickling down the surface, he couldn't help but think that the future looked bleak.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for all your kind, wonderful reviews! I'm surprised you guys even remember this story exists (since I seem to keep forgetting). You all rock my socks. Srsly.

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter nine, otherwise named: 'This is as angsty as Vincent's going to get'.**

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen Cid so happy," Shera commented to him one morning as they stacked newly-cleaned dishes, "Your arrival has really done wonders for him."

Her words seemed to shadow him for the rest of the day. She hadn't spoken them maliciously, he knew - how could she, when she didn't know what they truly meant? But she could have been speaking liquid fire for the burning guilt it gave him; her innocence of what she was actually saying only added to the feeling.

_She doesn't deserve this deception,_ He thought sadly, lifting his head as Cid's cheerful whistling floated from the next room, _How can he be so happy, knowing what he's doing to her? Knowing how much it could hurt her?_

He wanted to be angry at Cid, but it was impossible, not when he liked the man so much as well. Besides, he was hurting Shera as much as Cid was - more so, since Cid would have remained faithful if Vincent hadn't turned up in Rocket Town.

_I should leave,_ He told himself, _Just leave and never look back; pretend it never happened, or that there never was a Cid Highwind. It'd be for the best._

Or so he'd been telling himself all day, but he hadn't come any closer to packing his bags. Selfishness outweighed guilt, it seemed.

"Still raining," Shera muttered, glancing out of the water-streaked window, "Quite a downpour, isn't it? Funny, it doesn't normally rain here. I guess that's why this was chosen as the Rocket launch area."

Vincent watched her from the sofa, eyes slightly saddened; _I have to leave. I can't hurt her when she's been so kind to me._

"The skies are always so clear...maybe that's why Cid decided to stay here even after the Rocket launched. He used to spend hours just staring at the clouds, you know."

Her words added yet another weight to his conscience; _I can't hurt Cid either._

"Hey Shera, I fixed the clock-" Cid paused when he saw Vincent on the sofa, "Hey Vin, you okay? You look a bit down."

Vincent shook his head; "I'm fine, Cid."

"Are you sure?" Shera asked, "I could make you some tea if you want, or hot chocolate. It's nice to have a hot drink when you're watching the rain."

"No thank you, Miss Shera."

"Vincent, you know you can just call me Shera."

"I'll remember that," He rose from sofa elegantly, "I just feel a little tired is all. Maybe I'll take a nap."

"I could bring you some soup later if you're feeling sick," She offered.

"I'll be fine, really," He insisted, before hesitantly adding: "...My thanks, Miss Shera."

As soon as he reached the room, the first thing he did was grab his bag.

_I wish I could stay,_ He thought, stuffing his spare clothes into the bag, _But if I do, I'll only end up hurting her, and I can't do that. I'm sorry, Cid, but it's better for both of us if I leave._

He knew he wouldn't be able to go out of the front door without attracting Cid's attention, and it was less fussy to slip away unnoticed. Instead he slid the window open, climbing out onto the ledge. The ground wasn't that far down, so he took a jump, landing as silently as a former Turk should. The heavy rain soaked him instantly, but drowned out sound of his footsteps, and so he was able to get away in stealth.

For so long, anyway.

He heard Cid's heavy thudding footsteps long before the man could catch sight of him, and hurried his pace. He didn't run, partially because Vincent Valentine never ran anywhere unless he had to...but he feared that maybe a part of him was hoping that Cid would catch up. Which, given how frantic Cid's footsteps were, didn't take long.

"Vin!" He stopped and turned at the sound of the pilot's voice, raspy and raw from having run so fast, "Where the hell are you goin'?"

"Away," Vincent's told him quietly, "I can't do this anymore, Chief, especially not after Shera nearly discovered us. It's just too risky."

"But she won't know!" Was Cid's desperate protest, "What Shera doesn't know can't hurt her, right?"

"And what about me, Cid? Did you ever stop to consider that this affair might be hurting _me?_"

"Hurting...you?" The pilot frowned, "Whaddya mean, Vince? What's hurting you?"

"This! All this secrecy and lying, having to watch my every move just so I don't give something away. And also..." The ex-Turk lowered his head, words so soft that they could barely be heard above the rain, "Shera keeps commenting on your behaviour, how happy you seem since I arrived..."

"I _am_ happy."

"But she doesn't know why, does she?" Vincent pointed out, "She doesn't have a clue what's going on, and that makes it even worse. She keeps doing nice things for me, Cid, as her way of saying thanks for cheering you up. All the while not realising..." His tone grew bitter, "...What I'm really doing. What she's actually thanking me for."

Cid stared at him long and hard, ignoring the way the rain ran down his face and drenched his clothes, "...So that's it?" He asked at last, "You're just gonna walk away without even sayin' goodbye?"

"That was the intention," His words were brusque, but there was no kind way to put it, "But now that you're here...goodbye, Cid. This is the best way for both of us," He turned to leave.

"The best way, huh?" He heard Cid answer, almost whisper, as he walked away, "You think leavin' just like you did two years ago is the best way?"

He paused, "Perhaps it would have been better if I had never returned to Rocket Town at all, Cid."

"Then you don't understand anythin'," Curious at Cid's words, Vincent turned around again, and saw that Cid's hands were clenched into trembling fists, "#!£&, Vin, if you had any idea how much I missed you...I spent entire nights awake thinkin' about where you were, what you were doin', why you weren't here..."

"..." He wasn't sure how to respond to that, but apparently Cid wasn't done anyway.

"At first I thought you were dead, it had me worried sick," The man continued, staring pointedly at the ground, "But then I heard about you visitin' the other AVALANCHE members - everyone 'cept me. I couldn't figure out what I did wrong, but it sure as hell hurt. An' there 'aint a whole lotta people who can hurt me, Vince."

"You have my apologies, Cid, but-"

"An' then," Cid cut across him loudly, finally lifting his head up to meet Vincent's crimson gaze, "You came back. I was #!£&in' angry at you at first for leavin', but I was happy too. Peaceful. Even with how #!£&in' slow the days go by here, I 'aint felt peaceful since you left."

"Cid..." Vincent swallowed and looked away, "Please don't do this to me. I have to leave, you know that. No good can come of this."

"No good? Vince, I've never been happier since you turned up!"

"And at what cost? Look at what we're doing to Shera!" He paused, let out a sigh, and reduced his words to a quiet murmur, "You'll be fine without me, Cid. You survived for years before I met you-"

"Yeah, an' I was #!£&in' miserable then too," Cid growled, "#!£&er, don't you get it? I've never felt...not like this..."

"Cid! Vincent!" Shera's distant voice called out.

"Hold on, we'll be back in a minute!" Cid shouted back before turning to Vincent, "Please Vince, don't leave. You're my-" He hesitated, "-My best friend, an' I don't wanna lose you again. It was hard enough the first time."

Vincent shook his head; "I can't hurt Shera, Cid. I won't."

"She won't find out," The pilot insisted, "I swear she won't find out."

"You can't guarantee that."

"I can #!£&in' well try."

"..."

"I'll do whatever it takes," Cid declared, "I'll even act less happy if you want. I'll turn into a miserable git even if I feel like the happiest man on the planet."

Given how serious the words had been moments before, Vincent couldn't help himself: he laughed.

"There we go," Cid beamed, and took Vincent's face into his hands, "Can honestly tell me you'd still laugh like that if we never saw each other again?"

"You already know the answer to that, Chief."

"So you'll come back?" Cid asked hopefully.

"I...suppose so, ye-" He was cut off by the arms that flung around him, and the embrace that almost cut off his air supply. Regardless, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulders; it'd been so long since he'd actually received a hug that he'd honestly forgotten what it felt like.

"...Let's head back inside, eh Vin?" He heard the shorter man say, and felt his lips just brush the lobe of his ear.

"You'll need to let go of me first, Chief," Vincent reminded him, but he made no move to loosen his own hold, "But I can wait a little longer."

* * *

"Look at you two! You're soaked!" Shera exclaimed when the two men walked through the front door, effectively drowning the welcome mat, "Just as well I warmed up some towels...come on, I'll make some tea..."

He felt another wash of guilt at Shera's caring actions, but he forced himself not to think about it.

_Just remember: she doesn't know, she never will_.


	10. Chapter 10

Enjoy your sap!

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter ten, otherwise named: 'Profound romance gives you heart problems.'**

_I wonder if I've made the right choice._

"Vincent?" He heard Shera's voice through the closed door to his bedroom, but no effort to answer, "Mr Valentine, are you alright in there? You didn't come down for breakfast..."

_I don't think I could break it off now even if I tried. But living in such close quarters with both Cid _and_ Shera...it's only a matter of time before she finds out. You can't keep a secret like this hidden for long._

"Mr Valentine? I'm coming in, okay?" He heard the door open, apprehensive footsteps. He couldn't see anything, since he was facing the wall, but he didn't need to. He could already picture her worried face, and sure enough it matched her next words: "What's wrong, are you ill?"

"Shera, is Vince in there?"

"Hm? Yes captain, he's here on the bed."

"Oh good," There was obvious relief in the voice; Cid had probably thought that Vincent had run off again.

"I think he might be sick, though..."

"I'm fine, Miss Shera," Vincent finally spoke, evidently startling both her and Cid, "Just tired, that's all."

"You said that yesterday...maybe you caught something from being out in the rain for so long," She sounded slightly as though she were scolding him for being irresponsible; his lips quirked briefly at that, "I'll heat you up some soup, okay? You'll feel better in no time."

"There's really no need-" But he could already hear Shera leaving. Evidently Cid wanted to stay, but he heard a 'He's ill, let him get some rest!' before the pilot was dragged off as well. That was probably for the best - he needed time alone to think.

_I wish she'd stop being so nice to me. I wouldn't have a problem if she was cruel and cold-hearted, because then I wouldn't feel guilty._

It was perhaps ten minutes later that there was another knock on the dooor, this one not so quiet and cautious as Shera's. He heard what he'd come to recognise as Cid's heavy footsteps, and the dull clink of a bowl being placed on the bedside table.

"...Vince?"

No reply.

"I nagged Shera into lettin' me see you," Cid continued, "I got some chicken soup as well, if you want."

"...I'm not hungry."

"Didn't think you would be," A pause, "You 'aint sick, are you? Just worried."

Vincent stirred slightly then, "What makes you think that?"

The pilot snorted; "You're Vincent Valentine. You never get sick."

"..."

"It's about Shera, isn't it?" Cid asked softly, "You don't need to worry. She doesn't know."

Vincent rolled onto his back to face him, crimson staring into cerulean, "_I_ know."

"So it's the guilt?"

A sigh. "She's such a kind-hearted person, Chief...really, you couldn't have married a nicer woman. She deserves better than the two of us."

"I'm starting to think you're fallin' for her, the amount of praise you shower that woman with."

The gunner quirked an eyebrow, amused; "Jealous, Chief?"

Cid laughed then, but it soon died down, and his words became serious: "I know I'm hurtin' her, and I feel bad for that...but Vin, I 'aint willin' to give you up. Planet help me if it's my downfall, but I wanna be #!£&in' selfish."

"Chief..."

"Shush, I 'aint done," Cid scolded, "These past two years...I thought I was copin' by keepin' myself busy, but I always felt so #!£&in' restless. I felt like that before I met AVALANCHE as well; runnin' about, seein' to that damn Rocket all the time...but when I got to know you, it was like I calmed down. Heh, kinda hard to be restless when you stay so #!£&in' still all the time," He smiled in fond memory, "It was like that when you showed up on my door. Well, not quite. I was still kinda on-edge. But that day in the fields, you remember it? I 'aint ever felt so happy."

"You were happy in the sky, Cid."

"Yeah, but I traded it for marriage," The pilot's voice grew quiet, "I could live without the sky, though, if you were with me. Half the time it feels like I'm flyin' anyway."

Vincent was silent, knowing the weight of Cid's words. He also knew that the man was clumsy with emotions, and so he wouldn't talk like this lightly. He could feel his chest tightening considerably, but he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"It's..." He rasped, and tried again, "It's not a good idea to have emotions that strong, Chief...they could be used against you."

"That's a Turk thing, isn't it?" Cid questioned, "Seein' emotional attachments as a disadvantage, because you might be dead the next day...maybe not the case with some if the young 'uns like Reno and Elena, but with Tseng and Rude...they share a similar attitude to you."

"..."

"Same stoic silence thing goin' for 'em as well," Cid muttered, "But don't you think you could stop bein' a Turk for a while? Allow yourself to feel just once?"

"..."

"'Cause I seem to be the drivin' force behind all this, whereas you want to give it all up, maybe even never see each other again. So I gotta wonder, Vince...do you really feel the same way I do? Or feel anythin' at all?"

"..."

"I hope you do. I really hope so. But if you don't, I'll understand. An' if you really wanted to end it 'cause you weren't happy with me - not 'cause of guilt - then...I'd accept that."

"Even though I make you happy?" Vincent asked at last.

"You do," Cid confirmed, nodding, "But I can't just think of myself. So if you really 'aint happy...you tell me."

"..."

"Think it over. I'll be by the window," Vincent felt a single barely-there kiss placed on his cheek before the pilot walked away, and left him to his thoughts.

* * *

An hour had passed, and the soup had long since gone cold. And Vincent Valentine had thus far managed to conclude this:

Cid Highwind was easily his closest friend out of everyone in AVALANCHE.

Cid Highwind was not, and never had been, affected by Vincent's frightening appearance and unsociably quiet demeanor. Similarly, Vincent was one of the few who saw past Cid's smoking, swearing, and brutally honest opinions.

Cid Highwind was the only person Vincent would consider staying with long-term, including in the romantic sense.

But he _still_ felt guilty about Shera.

_If I stay here, I'll hurt Shera. If I go, I'll hurt Cid,_ He thought in resignation, _The question is, who am I less willing to damage? Cid or Shera?_

The answer was Cid.

Unquestionably.

With that in mind, he finally dragged himself out of bed, attracting the attention of a nearby pilot, who was sat silently at the window, sky-blue eyes wacthed in puzzlement as Vincent made his way over to the wide window-sill, and took a seat next to Cid.

"Let me guess," Cid's voice was hoarse, "You're not happy with me, right?"

Vincent tilted his head sideways, then leaned into kiss him.

"Why Chief," He said when they had parted, and Cid was staring at him in shock, "I didn't think you had so little faith in our relationship."

"So...you really...?"

"You mean the world to me, Cid," Vincent murmured quietly, "I would not have come back to Rocket Town otherwise."

"Thank #!£&in' Christ. I don't know what I would've done if you'd said you wanted to break it off," The other man sighed in relief, relaxing against the window, "So much for Turks havin' no emotional attachments though, eh?"

"That attitude will probably always remain, Chief. But when I'm around you, I seem to become...less Turkish, so to speak."

"Less Turkish?" Cid snickered, then laughed, and kept laughing after that. And with happiness that infectious, Vincent couldn't help but join in.


	11. Chapter 11

We're almost near the end, folks...uh, hello? Anyone out there? Darnit, I think they've all left...

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer: The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.**

* * *

**Chapter eleven, otherwise named: 'Tsk, look at all the swearing.'**

"Wrench."

Vincent handed it over. Their fingertips brushed, sending a pleasant tingle throughout his body. Judging from Cid's split-second smile, he had felt it also.

"Screwdriver, third largest."

"How's it looking, Chief?" Vincent inquired as he passed it over.

"Better than before. The rain and wind wasn't too kind on her, though," Cid answered, and turned the screwdriver a few times before stepping back from the small plane, "Eh, that'll do for now. I can always do more maintenance tomorrow."

"Oh? What are you planning to do now then?"

"I was thinkin' I might fly..." The pilot murmured, and leaned in to place a kiss on Vincent's throat. The gunner shivered happily under the ministrations, but logic forced him to push Cid back.

"Cid, Shera is just inside the house-"

"Nah, she went out to the store. That gives us plenty of time to..." He left the sentence unfinished as he began kissing Vincent again, hands briefly toying with the long black hair before trailing down to the small of his back.

"Cid," Vincent gasped whenever their lips parted, uttering the name just because he wanted, because it sounded so good, "Cid..."

"Vin, if you keep moanin' my name like that, I 'aint gonna stop at kissin'," Cid muttered lowly, and pushed the gunner furthered back, against the workbench. All manner of mechanical tools were swept out of the way as Vincent sat down, still not breaking the kiss, and pulled Cid down with him. His hands reached up to entangle in Cid's short blond locks as he leaned back, breathing punctuated with gasps and moans.

"#!£&, #!£&, #!£&," Cid swore like a mantra, struggling to brace himself on trembling arms, "Jesus #!£&in' Christ Vin, Vincent, my Vincent..."

"More," Came Vincent's short demand as his hands travelled over Cid's back and pulled _down_. The result was Cid accidently grinding into him, which sent a pleasurable shudder through both men; Vincent threw his head back, revealing the smooth white expanse of neck that Cid was happy to claim. Without really thinking, he lifted his legs to wrap around the man's waist, which earned him a gasp and a spluttered stream of obscenities. It was chaotic and hazardous, all the pent-up frustrations and longing released in one go. At the same time, it was raw and passionate, like the storm that Cid seemed to embody, and it destroyed all conscious thought.

So much so, in fact, that neither man heard the key scrape in the lock of the front door.

Neither heard the footsteps, which paused at the amount of commotion coming from the back yard.

Neither heard the back door being opened in apprehension.

But both heard Shera's puzzled words: "What's all the noise-" And then a shocked silence.

It felt like ice flooding his veins. He turned his head, dreading what he was about to see, and yet unable to ignore it. Sure enough, Shera was staring at the two of them with a hurt and horrified expression, her skin several shades paler than normal as she tried to comprehend what she was seeing.

And then she ran back into the house in tears.

"Shera - Goddamnit - #!£&," Cid's voice went from panicked to defeated, and one hand immediately went up to grab a cigarette, "#!£&!"

"Go apologise," Vincent said quietly.

"What?" The pilot gaped, cigarette momentarily forgotten, "But-"

"Go. Apologise."

"...Alright," They pulled apart, and Cid headed into the house after Shera. Vincent remained motionless for a while, trying to gather his thoughts after such an abrupt change in circumstance, before he too went into the house. He found Cid upstairs, stood outside the door to his and Shera's bedroom.

"Shera, come out! Look, I can explain..." He then paused as he realised that there was really no other way to explain how she had found them besides the truth, "I - I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean for you to get hurt..."

He waited for a reply, but didn't receive one. Frustration building, he drew one hand back to punch the wall, but stopped himself in time.

"#!£&..." He muttered lowly to himself, "What the #!£& do I do now...?"

* * *

"She still isn't answering?" Vincent asked later on, when day had turned to night.

"Not a word. I'd have thought she wasn't in there, but I can hear her cryin'," The pilot rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Jesus #!£&...I don't love her, but that doesn't mean I like seein' her upset...#!£&..."

"You said she wouldn't find out, Cid. You swore."

"I know," He answered, but he lacked the energy to get angry or upset, "I know. I didn't hear her come through the front door...#!£&, I screwed up. This is a #!£&in' royal mess."

"It was going to happen eventually, I suppose," Vincent shook his head, "You can sleep here tonight, Chief. We'll sort it out in the morning."

"I hope so," Cid lay down on Vincent's bed, eyes already heavy with fatigue, "I'm so #!£&in' tired...it's like all my energy just flew out the window."

"You're not the only one," Vincent turned off the light before settling himself beside the pilot. Given his mako-enhanced vision, he could see the apprehension and longing on the man's face quite clearly: "Do you want something, Cid?"

"Just..." An arm reached towards the ex-Turk hesitantly; Vincent sighed and moved into the embrace, breathing softly against Cid's collarbone.

"Try to go to sleep," He told the pilot quietly, "And with any luck this will sort itself out."


	12. Chapter 12

This is it! The final chapter! Truthfully, I'm kind of glad it's over. There's so many other stories I want to start, but I can only juggle so many at once. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this, since I can say I certainly enjoyed writing it. The ending is a little...unusual, but fitting, I think.

So sit down, get yerself a cup of tea (or coffee if you prefer) and get readin' already!

**Warnings:** Is this yaoi, you ask? Of course it is! I write nothing BUT yaoi! For those who are still hopelessly green, yaoi is boys with boys (or in this case, men with men, rawr). The pairing is, or eventually will be, Cid/Vincent. If you don't like that then you either stumbled across this by accident, or you're in some serious denial; whatever the reason, just hit the back button.

**Disclaimer:** The story is mine, but sadly the characters are not - they belong to Square Enix/Squaresoft, and that Japanese guy whose name I can never remember. I can't prevent it, but please don't steal the fic idea; you can come up with your own. You're welcome to use Rocket Fields, but since it doesn't technically exist in-game, you may want to explain that it's where the Rocket used to be.

* * *

**Chapter twelve, otherwise named: 'That's all, folks!'**

Despite his earlier advice, it was Vincent who found himself struggling for sleep. Instead he lay painfully wide awake, shifting a few times in the hopes of finding a slumber-inducing position, but to no avail. Eventually he gave up trying altogether, and decided to calm his frayed nerves with a hot drink instead. Dislodging himself from Cid - who had successfully fallen asleep, breathing deep and rhythmic - he left the bedroom, padding softly down the hallway. The stairs creaked slightly as he descended them, loud enough to disturb the eerie silence, but he simply shook his head and headed for the kitchen.

...Where he found Shera sat at the table, still fully dressed, although she looked a little worse for wear. Evidently she was having as much luck sleeping as he was, if the dark shadows under her eyes were any indication. Judging by how bloodshot the whites were, he guessed that she had only recently stopped crying.

"Miss Shera?" He whispered, but it was enough to alert the woman to his presence. He approached apprehensively, inwardly stung by her hurt expression, but his conscience was screaming at him to make amends; "I don't know if I have any right to say this, but...I'm sorry."

Shera stared at him for a moment, then finally replied in a tired and broken voice: "Why did you come down here...?"

"I was going to get a drink," He stood awkwardly for a moment or so before turning away, "I'll just head back upstairs-"

"Wait," He stopped and looked back; Shera was trembling, but she met his gaze head-on, "Stay. We'll have one together."

He hesitated, but nodded and headed over to the kettle. An unpleasant silence resumed as they both waited for it to boil, and Vincent felt a deep relief when it was finally ready. He poured two mugs of tea, setting one down in front of Shera before he took a seat opposite her with his own drink.

"...I should've known," Shera said quietly after a long silence, "He was so happy when you came back. I've never seen him that happy before. I should've realised what it meant."

"I'm sorry," Vincent repeated, feeling horribly clumsy and unsure of what else to say, "I'm so sorry. Please understand, we never meant to hurt you."

Shera didn't answer, instead taking a sip of tea. He had to wonder if she really believed him or not.

"How long has it been going on?" She asked at last.

The subject was uncomfortable, but he couldn't very well deny her the knowledge; "Maybe three, four weeks after I first arrived; we kissed, then you called us in our for dinner. Afterwards, I told him we couldn't do it again."

"I remember that...you were both silent over the meal, and Cid was on-edge for days afterwards," Shera nodded, "It makes perfect sense now. But then he suddenly became so cheerful...which was when you agreed to a relationship, right?"

"Right," Vincent confirmed, slightly unnerved by how impassively Shera was reacting to all of this, when he had expected her to be in hysterics, "I'm not quite sure when we crossed the border from friendship to - to more. It just happened...and although I was reluctant because of you and your marriage to Cid, I couldn't bring myself to stop."

"I see," She took another unhurried sip of her drink. He waited for her to say something else, but she didn't, and the silence grew until it was unbearable.

"Miss Shera," He blurted out at last, "Forgive me for asking, but aren't you angry, or upset, or...?"

"Angry, no. Upset, yes. Very much so. But I don't think I have any tears left to cry."

For some reason, those words hurt him the most.

"I've thought about it a lot..." Another sip. He would've been less uncomfortable if she'd been screaming or sobbing at him, "And I have a question to ask you."

He felt icy dread soak through him at what it could be. She stared straight into his eyes, almost _past_ his eyes, as if searching for any hint of a lie:

"Do you love him?"

He blinked, having not expected that. But he couldn't answer with anything but the truth: "...I believe so, yes."

"That's alright then," She set her mug down on the table; he was puzzled as to what she was doing until he realised that she had just taken her wedding ring off.

"Here," She said, and slid it across the table towards him, "I want you to have it...I think Cid would rather see it on your finger, not mine."

He stared wordlessly at the ring in utter shock for a moment, before finally lifting his head to look at the woman seated opposite; "Miss Shera, I can't accept this."

"Take it. Please." At that last word she seemed to choke up, her voice struggling to stay even when she next spoke, "Just...just make him happy, okay? That's all I want. To see him happy."

He slowly reached out for the ring, but hesitated before touching it; "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," She nodded once before standing up, "I'm going out for a walk...the fresh air should do me some good. It's almost morning, so Cid will be up soon," She paused, then added: "Cid likes a cup of tea waiting for him every morning - three sugars, not too much milk. He has to get up pretty early to get all the airship maintenance done, though, so I'm sure he won't mind making it for himself while you sleep in."

"Airship maintenance...?" The meaning of her words suddenly dawned on him, "...Thank you, Miss Shera."

She smiled: "Just 'Shera' will do fine, Vincent."

* * *

He was waiting at the kitchen table when Cid finally came downstairs, and gestured towards a freshly-brewed mug of tea. The pilot was, of course, happy to accept, and seemed surprised after the first sip.

"Three sugars...how'd you know?"

"...Shera told me, just this morning."

Cid blinked; "Eh?"

"We talked. Then she went out for some fresh air not long ago," The ex-Turk told him before opening out his right hand, in which was clutched a single golden ring, "She gave me this."

Cid was quiet for a moment, before saying: "...Do you want it?"

"Want it?"

"You know...to wear it."

His lips quirked slightly at what Cid was actually trying to say; "...Cid, this has to be the most unromantic marriage proposal ever."

"I don't _do_ romance, Vampy, you know that."

"Same as ever, I see," Vincent murmured, "Very well, I'll accept on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You return to your airship."

Cid almost choked on his tea; "What?!"

"You heard," He stared at the pilot squarely, unblinkingly, "You belong in the sky, Cid. And if I'm not mistaken, Shera thinks so as well. So...will you do it?"

"#!£&, I sure as hell 'aint saying no," Cid scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "And you'll be with me?"

Vincent raised his hand, and slipped the simple ring onto his finger before Cid's eyes; "Always."

* * *

Shera stood in the fields, the tall grass and wildflowers brushing against her knees, untamed in the two years since the Rocket launched. The sun had risen now, and the town residents would soon be awake...she glanced back at her house, knowing she had to go back, but not quite ready yet.

She knew that Cid and Vincent would remain together.

She knew that Cid would return to his airship and sail the skies.

She knew that she might never see the captain again.

But that was okay. She would live with that, start afresh. Maybe find someone else with the same warmth, the same smile...it wouldn't be easy, or painless, but if nothing else, Cid had taught her about determination.

_After all..._ She thought, and lifted her head so the wind would whip away her tears, _If you truly love something...you'll let it go._

-END-


End file.
